


Careful where yer sprinklin' those twinklies

by soda_coded



Category: Sam & Max
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Bad Jokes, Caught, Fisting, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in a Car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25746265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soda_coded/pseuds/soda_coded
Summary: Max eats Sam's ass in the DeSoto. The radio is jamming smooth jazz, and they both smell like maple syrup, the car slowly steaming in the evening sun. Canon compliant dirty talk.
Relationships: Max/Sam (Sam & Max)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	Careful where yer sprinklin' those twinklies

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry y'all, but this is the best thing I've ever written.

Sam dusted the last of his donut off his jacket and onto the floor of the cruiser, wuffing out a satisfied sigh. Well. Another case solved, another bill for damages paid care of the Commissioner, and thus another celebratory box of donuts.

"Careful where yer sprinklin' those twinklies, Sam." Max said, shaking from head to toe, a quick cartoonish spasm that set his fur to rights, and tossed Sam's rehomed crumbs to the fleas on the floor. Let 'em eat cake, Max thought. "I'm dry-clean only."

"You were already a mess." Sam said agreeably, only backtracking when he saw Max's face. "Not that it's your fault, little buddy! After that deranged waffle monster grew first sentience, and then a heart to love you with, I knew you'd come home stuffed and sticky."

"I  _ was _ worried I'd be too full for donuts." Max said and then burped. Cheeky little bastard. He hadn't even rolled down the window. Sam snorted, and rolled down his own instead, chucking the box out into the Gotham streets, nature's trash can. It was a nice morning outside, but Sam thought he'd be enjoying it a lot more if he'd slept before seeing it. Still when duty called, he beat Max's cotton tail to the punch and answered. That waffle monster had been no joke, even if it had been delicious. Maybe he should just be glad to see the sun…

"Still, you seemed to like it when it was happening." Sam said lightly. "Do I need to be jealous of breakfast?"

"No more than usual." Max replied, but he was grinning extra wide. What a cutie. "It is the most important meal of the day."

"Well, good thing we ate then." Sam said. Reached forward and turned on the DeSoto, loving how she felt purring to life underneath him. "Home?"

"Not just yet." Max said, and Sam wuffed in surprise at the sly interest in his voice. The sudden jazzy tunes from the radio. The sensual play of sunlight through the windshield. "Don't you want your reward for saving me from the big, scary Eggo?" 

"I didn't think we were in  _ that _ kind of game." Sam muttered, tucking a finger in his collar and tugging. Seemed hotter in here all of a sudden. "And you saved yourself, Max. Really put those teeth to work-" 

"Shut up, big guy." Mac said affectionately, and slapped his hand onto Sam's crotch. "Ooh, nice gear stick."

"Wait'll you see it in drive." Sam lobbed, but his voice came out a little uneven. Maybe because he was panting a little. Probably just the sudden heat. He couldn't believe the writers had left him a car, with the windows rolled up. That was illegal, and he should know, he was the police. "Really Max, you want to-"

"Stop worryin'. " Max purred, cuddling close enough that his next words were whispered directly into Sam's ear. " _ We're a multi-media series. _ "

"Holy moly." Sam said, and Max slung a leg over his, straddling Sam's thigh like it was nothing. Like they weren't parked in full view of a Snuckey's at mid morning. Like Max's little pink cock wasn't already poking free of his fur, the tip wet and gleaming in the sunlight. When he realized Sam was staring he winked, bucking his hips a bit. 

Sam made a noise he couldn't repeat if he tried.

"When you put it like that…" Sam said, and pulled at his tie, loosening it until Max could grab an end and pull, sliding it free of his collar with a flourish. It made his breath come a little faster, and he reached for Max, his hand curving around his hip, paw sinking into soft white fur until the tips of his claws pricked skin and Max hissed, bucking again. If he kept it up, Sam would be putting Max and his slacks into dry cleaning.

He started on his buttons, and Max stopped him with a soft paw.

"Can't get you totally naked! What if someone calls the police?"

"But you're- Mmghk!" Max had stood on the seat to kiss him, those soft paws now holding Sam's face where he wanted it as he kissed the daylights out of him. Max had always been a good kisser- once he'd made a chain of knotted cherry stems long enough to wrap their Christmas tree three times, but Sam was never expecting the intensity. All that energy and manic focus used to suck his tongue in a way that made his toes shiver.

Ugh. His toes felt so weird when they shivered.

Max pulled back with a wet smacking sound, looking frustrated. " I can feel when you're thinking stupid thoughts, Sam, you know that-"

"-dang metal plate-"

"-so, please buddy, pay attention." Max said and leaned back in, all of his insubstantial weight leaned against Sam's chest, so much power to be contained to his tiny frame. His ears brushed Sam's jaw when he ducked his head to bite at his neck. Sam had never met anything with teeth like Max except maybe bear traps and just the danger involved in having those sharp points rake through his fur, pressed flat and sweaty from his collar made him shudder. The motion rolled through them both. Despite what he'd said before, Max had one paw between them slowly working his belt free, his buttons open.

"Better." Max said, and Sam kissed him again just to keep him quiet, one hand coming up to support the curve of his head. To keep him close while he wriggled, Sam slobbering on him rather tenderly. He was breathless when Sam let him up. "Oh, much better."

"So, what are we doing fully clothed that doesn't involve me having to do laundry-"

"-we are definitely going to have to do laundry." Max said, sounding pleased. "You are just covered in maple syrup and white fur-"

"-that involves an x rating?" Sam finished through a snarl, and Max was laughing as he answered.

"Alright! Jeez. You're gonna like it-"

"Whoa!" Sam exclaimed as the seat reclined all the way back abruptly, only staying seated upright by over correcting quickly, one arm wrapping around Max to secure him instinctually. Only realized Max had done it when he felt him shaking as he laughed. "What-!"

Max leaped up and gave him a fat, suckling kiss before yanking back and climbing up and over Sam's shoulder like he was the dumb log his expression must make him seem. Max's kisses always made him dumb. Landed behind him, and urged him up,Sam fumbling to kneel on his seat, Max seated behind him on the seat back like a seesaw. Sam did as asked, watching the empty parking lot around them from under his brim. Still, how Max had them positioned meant that Sam just looked like a flushed, sweaty parked driver. 

One whose calves were going to be barking tomorrow.

No one who wasn't right next to the DeSoto could see Max sliding his loosened slacks off his hips, enough to completely free his tail and Sam sighed with relief at the feeling. Sighed again when Max thumbed his entrance into view, spreading his fur.

"Hey Sam, do you mind if I drive?" Max asked huskily.

"Not if you don't mind me clawing the dash and screaming like a cheerleader." Sam said and whined as a hot tongue gave excellent follow through. Holy  _ moly _ , he thought, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. He and Max agreed on a lot of things- justice, and twinklies and freelance police brutality- but sometimes Sam thought this might be where they got along best. He wuffed out another heavy breath as Max pulled back. Looked like Trix were for adults, too.

“You taste like syrup.” Max said, and Sam liked the dazed quality to his voice… normally he only heard that after his little buddy had obtained a bonk to the noggin. “And wet dog.”

“We’ll- we’ll scrub up at- ah!- at home, pal....”

Max hummed in reply, the sound traveling across his tongue where it had reburied itself in Sam’s asshole. Soft, lagomorphic vibrations and Sam tried to hold his tail still from wagging, but when it felt so good-

“Aww cute.” Max said, and Sam felt sweat roll down his back as that tongue was replaced with a slim clever digit. “It’s like your keister is waving at me!”

“Wow, thanks.” Sam said, but it came out more genuine than he meant. Well. You were supposed to thank a friend for giving you a hand, and now Max had his whole paw up there, working it in and out of him in small tight motions that had Sam barking up the wall. His hands were sweating on the wheel in a way they never did during high speed chases and his tail was going crazy. 

“You wanna know how you can really thank me?” Max said, the words sly, spoken through teeth sharper than god had ever intended on something as cute as Max. Sam groaned, the sound pulled out of him along with Max’s fist. He turned around to look at him, to look at the way his clean white fur shone with spit and juices. His little pick cock was fully extended now, wet in the dim light of the enclosed car. “Hands at ten and two, Sam. How can you expect citizens to follow the law-”

“Public indecency, bestiality, fraternization among the ranks-” Sam said, listing just a few of the laws they were breaking as Max lined up with his wet opening. And those were only the laws of man. The laws of science, well, don’t get him started.

“-if we don’t set a,  _ oh donuts on a hot dog _ , good example Sam?” Max asked, sliding into him smoothly, until they were all jammed together like, like- like donuts on a hot dog. In a hot dog? Sam wasn’t sure. His thoughts, which normally had no problem dissembling or digressing, were instead falling out of his head completely, landing somewhere on the dashboard. “Wow, you’re so-so-”

“So what?” Sam asked, and then yelped when Max pulled back and bounced back into him. For a little guy, he sure knew how to throw his weight around, a fact Sam appreciated in back alley brawls and in the bedroom. Or right now, in the DeSoto, which was rocking so hard Sam hoped the shocks were okay. Made him breathless, made him a little less like a white-collared show dog, and more like the mutt he’d been in his youth.

“So tight.” Max groaned and Sam sure hoped the Geek hadn’t put any new bugs in the car since he’d disabled the last ones, because the noise he made when Max clapped back into him was a disgrace to Freelance Police everywhere. “Christ Sam, I gotta work you over more often, you feel like when you hold your thumb over a garden hose to turn it into a spray, and it sucks your thumb in from the pressure-”

“Golly, Max, enough dirty talk or I’ll pop like a dented can of bean under hot summer sun!” Sam said, voice strained. 

“-like I’m sticking my fist in a jelly sandwich straight from the microwave-”

Sam howled, feeling his stomach tighten in anticipation.

“-better riding a horse wearing a wetsuit filled with lube-”

“You’ve never done that!” Sam said on a laugh, and then gasped as he came, wet waves behind his zipper, body clenching hard and tight around Max. 

“I could!” Max said, but he was laughing too, even as he sped up, his hips slapping into Sam’s slowly wagging tail, his voice coming high and sharp as he came into him, little hands fisting Sam’s fur. Coulda gone into opera, his little buddy, and instead he’d chosen Sam and his DeSoto. “I have a wetsuit!”

Sam sighed, feeling him slip out, the little whump as his body collapsed on the seat. He could feel their juicy sin soiling his fur… to sit down or not to sit down-

“Sorry girl.” He told the DeSoto, and sank slowly onto her leather seat. “You don’t have a wet suit anymore. Remember-”

“Oh yeah.” Max said darkly, but he sounded pleasant and tired. “The birds.”

“The birds-” Sam said, warming up because he loved this story, when he was interrupted by a knock on the window. A heavy knock, like a billy club, or the butt of a flashlight.

“Open up! We have a public complaint!”

“Damn coppers.” Sam said. “Ready to ride?”

“Always.” Max told him. Even put his seat back into place as they sped off. Just for that, maybe next time Sam would let him use the Gatling gun.


End file.
